(no subject)

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

Roy Mustang is again in the bar, seated in a booth. The table in front of him is actually covered with paper, and he appears to be, shockingly enough, working.

But the chances that he actually wants to are very slim indeed, so he would not be adverse to people bothering him.

Even as a General, Roy is still a first-class procrastinator.

Comments

[ways-lust.livejournal.com]

A furry giant humanoid chipmunk (or squirrel, hard to say) interrupts her contemplation of her current form and spots Roy. "That uniform looks familiar ... If I may ask, where are you from?" (Yes, she sounds like Lust usually does.)

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

... well. Ed did mention this, but if pressed Roy would have to admit that this isn't entirely what he was prepared for.

'Central, Amestris.'

He has to remind himself that a) Bar rules prohibit the dispensation of severe hurting, and b) this particular Lust substantially predates the one with whom he is familiar.

[ways-lust.livejournal.com]

She swivels her head as she tries to keep track of her tail while he talks. "Central ... let me guess. You know me, and since I don't recognize you you're from my future ..."

She gives up trying to keep tabs on the tail and turns her bright green eyes to him.

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

Roy gives a vague nod.

'You're very perceptive. It seems that you've been met with this particular scenario before.'

He has to admit that the tail is intriguing. Actually, seeing Lust as an immense humanoid chipmunk/squirrel/rodent is interesting. He wonders if it's permanent.

[ways-lust.livejournal.com]

Wouldn't THAT change canon interestingly?

"I've met two others from the future."

She flexes her fingers as if she's expecting them to elongate, but nothing happens. She looks back up to Roy. "I suppose dire threats are next?"

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

Well, Ed did mention something about a parallel world, and having never been there personally, Roy does have to give the whole situation a bit of thought.

'I'm not entirely certain what the point would be. After all, the future's already happened for me, meaning that whatever I say here won't make any changes in what's occurred.' Or will perhaps cause the future to occur. The very idea of it gives Roy a headache.

Really, he can't see a point in it anyway, and at this point n time, well. Roy's not one to waste his breath on empty threats.

Besides, even if it is Lust, threatening a squirrel seems weird

[ways-lust.livejournal.com]

She tilts her head to him. "Were we allies, or enemies? Can I ask that much?"

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

... aha, yes.

'We weren't exactly what you would call friends,' Roy replies.

Which basically translates to 'enemies,' yes.

[ways-lust.livejournal.com]

She nods slightly, then in a very un-Lustlike moment says quietly, "Whatever I do ... did ... will do ... whatever happened, please understand it was nothing personal."

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

'Yeah, I know.'

She actually seems relatively unobjectionable, not considering everything that happened for Roy and happens later for her. Roy figures that if he can't be nice, the least he can do for the time being is be civil. She's Lust, but at the same time she's not.

He's going to get a headache from all of this, he really is.

[ways-lust.livejournal.com]

"Thank you."

She looks at the papers on the table a moment before asking "Can I get you something to drink?"

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

It's a surprising offer, but Roy figures that it can't hurt. It's not as if the Bar will poison anything, and he is trying to play nice.

'Some coffee would be welcome.'

He gestures vaguely at the paperwork in explanation.

[ways-lust.livejournal.com]

She nods. "Alright."

She walks over to the counter and asks for two coffees, returning with a little tray that includes also cream and sugar.

She looks at the papers. There's no place to put the tray without covering some of them ...

[notashortbean.livejournal.com]

"I think," Ed says, planting his feet by the table, "That I think I may have just a heart attack. I had a heart attack and I'm hallucinating in the afterlife, because there's no possible way you're voluntarily working."

...nobody ever said he wasn't dramatic.

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

'A General's work,' Roy states, 'is never done.' He scrawls his signature on a form and puts it aside on a surprisingly large stack of completed ones.

'And if you have the time to be a smart-ass, then you have the time to sit down and help me, or at least prevent me from slipping into a coma.'

[notashortbean.livejournal.com]

Ed takes the seat, right across from Roy. As for the help, he squints at the papers suspiciously. "The hell are you even doing, anyway?" He reachs for a paper in the middle of a stack, to pull it out.

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

'This, Fullmetal one, is what is required to keep the army happy.'

And really, there's nothing interesting in any of the papers, at least not that Roy's noticed so far. Transfer orders, supply requisitions and inspection reports, mostly, with the odd disciplinary measure that needs his attention.

Roy does, however, pause to lift the top portion of the stack so that Ed can get at what he wants without upsetting the rest.

[notashortbean.livejournal.com]

"Is this what I put you through? Lots of paperwork over the various stupid things I pulled?"

Ed blinks at the paper, then gets a very strange look on his face.

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

'I think part of this may very well be backlog from the stupid things that you pulled.'

He notices Ed's weird expression and blinks.

'What?'

[notashortbean.livejournal.com]

"You mixed in your love letters?" Ed asks, and waves the paper at him. His voice is a little incredulous. He reads it over for a moment, before finally repeating some of it, in a falsetto sort of voice.

"That night we spent together - I can still feel your hands on me. Oh, Roy, when will I see you again?" He makes a dramatic sort of gesture. A dramatic gesture -from the heart-. "With your lips on mine, I felt as if I never had before... as if I had truly reached heaven."

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

...

'My WHAT?!'

Roy lunges across the table and makes a grab for the piece of paper.

'GIVE ME THAT!'

Full caps for the entire sentence, please. Thanks.

[notashortbean.livejournal.com]

But, oh! Ed has good reflexes. He backs away from Roy's attempt, and hops up so he's standing on the booth chair, rather than sitting on it. "When I look into your eyes," He says, raising his voice louder than before, "I know that I am completely safe, and nothing could ever harm me."

Who the hell writes this stuff?!

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

Roy is torn between burying his face in his hands in mortification or hiding under the table. Unable to make a decision, he takes a hitherto unseen option. That of climbing up onto the table to try to get a better shot at grabbing the acursed piece of paper.

Who the hell writes that stuff, indeed?

[notashortbean.livejournal.com]

"No!" Ed says, and climbs over the seperation between that booth and the next one. "Let me finish!" He hops on the table over there, and reads on. "Except perhaps your fingernails," He pronounces loudly, "But those are marks I treasure, Roy, and I always will. The only reminders of our love."

Ed should read more, but now he's just snickering.

[snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com]

'I do not have long fingernails!' Roy bellows, doggedly pursuing Ed across the divide and grabbing for the paper again.

What makes things worse is that he can't even remember who wrote that damned letter, or when.